Disculpa
by spygirl8
Summary: Chloe sorts out her feelings in a onesided conversation with an old acquaintance. Barely after Pariah. Chlark with Chloe's POV.


**DISCULPA**

**Title: Disculpa (Apology)**

**Author: Christina/spygirl**

**Summary:****Chloe sorts out her feelings in a one-sided conversation with an old acquaintance.**

Rating: G 

**Spoilers: Up to Pariah.**

**Disclaimer: Claiming any of these characters, places, etc. would be silly (and a lie) since I don't even own the willow tree mentioned….**

**A/N: I started this story nearly two years ago, so new events have not affected it. 'Disculpa' is Spanish for 'Apology' (and also excuse, but I'm just sticking with the former meaning); don't ask me why I decided on using another language though. :D Thanks to Carol, Amy, and fc for their encouragement (and, in fc's case, for being patient with our internet problems), but especially for stumbling their way through my writing and helping to make it clearer. And now, let the show begin! (& please leave a review when you're finished :)**

_February 5__th__, 2005_

Chloe walked among the rows, searching for the stone she wanted. She stepped past a kneeling angel and the picture of a smiling little girl, past a chipped cross, and past a small plaque that was barely discernable. Her eyes grazed over name after name, each nearly hidden among the grass, until they paused suddenly. She blinked once, almost amazed at having found the correct spot, and then looked around to make sure nobody was watching.

She needn't have bothered. It was a dreary mid-afternoon with a dark sky and light sprinkles now and then. She even would have sworn that hail had landed on her car during the drive over. Not the typical day to go to a cemetery.

But it _was_ fitting.

She read the tombstone aloud, "'_Leonard Michael Wallace. Born May 9__th__, 1968. Died October 1__st__, 2003. Beloved Son and Friend._'" She paused and glanced around again before kneeling on the damp ground in front of the grave, ignoring the thought that her jeans would get soaked.

"I'm so sorry. I just want to say that up front. I mean, it's my fault you died, but moreover, it was my stupid lack of thinking that ended your life. We only met how many times? Two? My aggravating carburetor stops, you fix it, I get curious, and you're dead within a month…" She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed, fighting blindly against the guilt weighing on her mind. "If I hadn't been so careless…" She had to pause and clear her throat. "Van was wrong; you had a power, but you didn't deserve to die. You never tried to hurt anyone. And, honestly, you stretched your arms to make fixing cars easier. Hardly worth notifying National Security.

"And…" Chloe gave a slight chuckle, "to be completely honest, it's a power I wish I had, instead of… What I mean is, every morning I wake up and try to touch my toes… I've never made it." She laughed again, the sound echoing through the air and off the scattered trees.

She heaved a sigh, sobering again. "Sorry it's taken me so long to get out here. What's it been? A year? Year and a half?

"I have to be honest with you. There is another reason I came. I know you're dead, so I'm just pretending you can hear me. I just… I need to talk to someone. So… I was wondering if I could just talk?"

Chloe paused for a second and studied the grave. "Right. You can't answer; you can't even hear me." She choked out some nervous laughter that quickly quieted.

"It's just that… I can't talk to anyone. Not my dad. I love him, but this is the sort of thing that needs to be kept 'hush hush.' And I know he'd have a hard time with that. My mom's not here, so she's out of the picture. I can't talk to Lois or Lana. Not even to Clark. _Especially_ not to Clark. He's who I want to talk about. You see, I now know a secret, and it can't be repeated, which is why I figured that you were the best choice. No offense.

"It happened a few days back…" Her hand drifted to the cold earth, and she absently dug her fingernails into it. "Clark 's ex-girlfriend, Alicia, came back to town. You didn't know her, but she had a gift, too; she could teleport herself anywhere. Unfortunately, she had a little problem with obsession and tried to kill Lana because of Clark. Clark saved her, of course, and Alicia was sent to Belle Reve for some mental recovery.

"A week or so ago, she was released. She claimed to have changed, and Clark was quite willing to date her again. That's what I love about him. He always tries to see the good in people, no matter what they do. But, needless to say, some of us were a little concerned when they got together, particularly Lana."

Chloe gazed up at the dark clouds as the rain began falling again. She shook her head as drops of water landed on her cheek. "Anyway… some things happened, including Clark marrying her in Las Vegas, which, luckily, they were able to get annulled. I don't know the whole story, so it doesn't make much sense to me why Clark even went there with her.

"After that calmed down some, Alicia was accused, again, of trying to kill Lana and then Jason, Lana's boyfriend. Well, as it turns out, it was really some guy who wanted to be the 'judge, jury, and executioner' of Smallville." Chloe smirked. "Sorry; Lois' words, not mine." She quickly lost the grin. "Clark managed to figure it out, but by the time he tried to stop the guy, Alicia had been murdered. Clark was incredibly… troubled. The last time I'd seen him like that was when Ryan died. I think he's still in shock." Chloe paused and took a deep breath.

"Of course, Clark blames himself. That's just the way he is… He always believes himself to be the cause of the world's disasters, or at least Smallville's problems; I hope he learns to stop that." Chloe lightly traced the words on the marker, sighing sadly to herself.

"But what I really wanted to talk about happened before she died. I was working alone one evening at the _Torch_, our school's paper, when she suddenly walked in. I was wary of her, 'cause I don't usually trust people who have committed or attempted murder. She said some weird things, and then she grabbed me and teleported us both to a car. She called Clark and pretended to be in trouble. Next thing I know, we're out of the car and by the side of the road. Clark was there; it was like he'd just appeared out of nowhere! The car hit something and was launched into the air. I really thought that it was going to hit him, and I remember being positively terrified for him. I was certain I was about to watch my best friend die." Chloe couldn't stop the shudder that ran its way through her body as she relived the memories.

"He just braced himself and _caught the car_. I couldn't believe my eyes; I've always known that he was strong, but this… I couldn't believe it," she repeated quietly. "And then, when he realized that no one was in the car, he _ran_ off. As in, ten times faster than the most amazing running time. Alicia simply took me back to the _Torch_ and really didn't explain it to me at all. All she said was, 'Now you know and Clark can be himself'.

"I haven't spoken with anyone about this. I know if I talk here, no one will ever find out. I mean, I understand that it is supposed to be kept a secret. Telling anyone would destroy the Kents' trust in me. Clark has always been afraid of being an outsider, so I understand that he wouldn't make it public knowledge that he has superpowers. But…" Chloe bit her lip anxiously again, "why doesn't he feel like he can tell _me_? Do I seem too fragile to be told or something? Does he think that I'll write an article on him and send it to the _Planet_? He should know me better than that. He is, other than my dad and Lois, the single most important person in my life. I would _never_ betray him that way. I know I did once, but I never will again.

"_Why doesn't he think I can be trusted?_ I don't understand. He means so much to me…" Chloe broke off, staring at the nearby trees. "I love him. I know I can admit that here. I love him…" Her eyes focused on a weeping willow, studying the branches inattentively.

"Maybe," her voice shattered the silence, "maybe he doesn't want me to know, because he thinks it's dangerous… or maybe he doesn't want me to have to worry about cracking and telling someone. But that isn't a good enough reason… he knows that I can keep secrets. We used to be so close." She pulled her coat a little closer to keep warm, snuggling into fuzzy coziness.

"Well, I'll have to show him that I can handle it. I'll have to prove that I care enough about him that his secrets won't bother me. And I'll wait for him to tell me himself." She rocked back on her heels, her hands on the ground to brace herself. Looking up, she noticed that the sun had partially pushed through the clouds, the grassy carpet slowly drying under the few warm beams.

She sensed a movement and, raising her head, saw a middle-aged woman enter from another part of the cemetery. Their eyes met, and Chloe gave a small smile as the woman returned the gesture, wiping her cheek while she did so.

Chloe focused on the grave again, her eyes taking in every detail. "I'll try to come again," she promised, the only reply the soothing whisper of the wind as it rushed through the leaves of the tree above her. She stood slowly, her eyes unexpectedly misting. Even as she tried to blink them back, a couple of tears slipped down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry," she whispered around the lump in her throat.

Stepping back a few feet, she murmured quietly, "You weren't afraid to use your gift… so I won't be either. I'll have to learn to be strong enough to simply accept it as a part of my life now." A smile snuck its way to her lips. "Who knows? Maybe I'll use it to become a better reporter." And then she turned and walked toward the gated entrance, glancing back for one last look before the wet footprints in the grass were the only evidence of her existence.

In front of the grave of her own loved one, the woman voiced words that spoke of her sorrow. But had she looked up again from her tears in the direction of where Chloe was, she would have been mildly surprised to see that the teen was nowhere in sight. And if she had looked a little harder, she would have seen the gate open and close seemingly by itself.

The End 


End file.
